


To Heart's Content

by swan_songs



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cisswap, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Minor Violence, Partial Nudity, girls make everything better so have some lesbian akeshu, makeouts and misunderstandings, spoilers for 7th palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swan_songs/pseuds/swan_songs
Summary: If the Thieves aren't going to do anything to protect Akira, Akechi will. On her own terms. Akira just tries to be something more than a consolation prize.





	To Heart's Content

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday/Valentine's Day gift for my girlfriend. I'm sorry it took me so long to write it, wuv u

How is it possible for a mouse to be less stealthy than a teenager wearing a ridiculously long leather coat?

This isn’t a question Akira would have ever guessed she’d have to  
ask herself, but here she was, with a yet another shadow hot on her tail, the second she scurries out of an another air duct. Honestly, it feels as though the carpet is somehow amplifying the sounds her tiny paws make as she sprints across it. It’s already hard enough to navigate with her mobility and Wild Card powers being severely limited by this ailment, frustratingly so. And as though that wasn’t enough, Akira knows she won’t be able to keep up the speed necessary to avoid the Shadows for much longer; the relentless chase only further draining her already sapped energy. It was easy enough for things to get out of hand in this maze of rooms and corridors just hours ago. But now, with Joker recklessly infiltrating the Palace solo because she couldn’t sleep, it seems inevitable.

Vowing to never take Navi or Mona for granted ever again, if she makes it out, Akira ducks under an armchair only for it to be knocked over by one of her pursuers. Left with nowhere to hide she darts towards the nearest exit. But alone and therefore only able to rely on her own knowledge and instincts, it’s only a matter of time before she gets backed into a corner. Joker might be a one-woman-army, but the mask means nothing when it’s resting uselessly against her snout, just like her back against the wall.

The fact the shadow melts into it’s true form before it can crush her under its sole is a small relief when she’s outnumbered two to one, by a Cerberus and a Cu Chulainn no less, a condescending laugh rings in her ears. While a wry smile is impossible for a mouse, Akira is sure some kind of grimace is making its home on her muzzle at the thought of her current location, The Cruiser of Pride, being where she finally overestimated herself and her abilities. It doesn’t mean much in the end, but at least she didn’t drag the rest of the Thieves down with her. Although, she would probably have never found herself in such a hopeless situation, had others been here. Had Akechi been here.

Has they been there for Akechi.

Like a kick to the gut, the stray thought knocks the wind from her lungs and an actual kick follows it before she can dodge it. The shadows are back upon her in a blink of an eye and any effort she made to stay ahead is wasted. With the escape route cut off, the Cerberus jumps at the opportunity with a swipe of it’s clawed paw and Akira, curled on the floor, mind and body reeling from all kinds of pain, knows she can’t escape it.

There’s no reason to run, really, even if she could. She’s searched everywhere, each and every nook and cranny has been accounted for. Even when her tired mind started playing tricks on her, she kept on; there’s no way that everything lurking in the shadows has a stripped pattern, but she had to make sure. It’s pointless to continue now though, there’s nowhere else to go. Much less somewhere she feels even more powerless.

Why did she even bother, she muses as she watches her doom descending towards her in slow motion, blocking all the light as the Palace is about to claim another life-

-and then everything is a blur, as through time itself sped up, and a different set of claws snatches her up by the scruff of her neck, pressing her snout-first into something warm and soft as Akira squeezes her eyes shut from the vertigo. Is it to prevent the world from spinning or maybe in anticipation for the inevitable blow, she doesn’t care for that, only for the grip that tightens on her when the shadows’ roars are drowned out by an explosion. Akira digs further into whatever she’s pressed against as a wave of heat followed by a stench of something burning hits her, clinging to whatever she can in the darkness that surrounds her. 

The rush of blood in Akira’s ears is deafening in the silence that returns with the shadows dissipating into the thin air, but not disorientating enough not to notice the quick rise and fall of the almost vertical surface she’s now held against. With the danger seemingly gone, the grip on her relaxes considerably, almost cradles her. Becoming aware of that, she forces her eyes open the tiniest bit, if just to try and make any sense of the situation she’s found herself in. She doesn’t get to take more than a peek, with whoever holding her noticing her movements; the clawed hand pressing down on her head in response, blocking out the view.

A startled, high-pitched squeak is all she can react with, paralyzed by her mind screaming at her to flee from or fight her captor, to do something, anything, since there’s no way it’s-

“Be quiet, you pest.”

Akira freezes, any coherent thought fleeting from her mind, leaving behind emptiness so heavy it weights on her heart. The surge of rage and hope soon takes its place, mixing with already clouding her head panic, making the heady cocktail of nonsense begin to ring in her ears, throwing her into frenzy, because it’s impossible, impossible that she’s-

It must be an another cognitive, must be. Anger sobers Akita up in a blink of an eye, halting the thoughts circling in her head like a hurricane, silencing it like it was never there in the first place. She just has to escape, fight her way out. That’s easy, that’s doable, even if the clawed gauntlets don’t budge one bit, no matter how much she twists and fights and tries to pull away. She did not come here to be mocked by getting captured with no escape again, after all.

But getting squashed against the dark material like some bug is all she gets for her trouble, so in retaliation, she lands a nasty bite right in between the metallic parts and doesn’t feel bad about it one bit. Because hey, if being a menace is what she’s really good at, why not continue with that trend. The hand, surprisingly, jumps away from her with a very satisfying shriek to boot, but before Akira can even think of celebrating, it’s back; grabbing a fistful of skin on her back hard and yanking even harder.

It’s not too bad, considering it frees Akira’s paws to trash all they like in blind fury, in denial. It’s comically useless but she’ll not go down quietly, oh no, not to a puppet of all things. But an eerily familiar growl and a swift return of captivity, this time in form of a cage two hands with no space to wiggle, silences Akira’s distressed squeaking.

Wait and see, adapt. This she knows better, fate not sealed yet, so she forces herself to calm down. The grip doesn’t feel crushing, but secure rather, with the sharp tips of the talons pointing away from her.

“I thought you couldn’t be any more of a handful, and yet, would it kill you to, just once, do what you’re supposed to do?” The sneering remark reaches Akira’s ears as soon as she stills and despite her better judgement, her eyes fly open, fully taking in the stranger.

The already clogged in her throat heart, lurches painfully at the both familiar completely alien sight, of somebody, of something dressed in that dark, striped garb standing in front of her, having the gall to wear not only her outfit, but also her face.

A sharp cry released by Akira seems to startle the impostor, enough for it’s grip to become sufficiently loose to wiggle out of by the thief-turned-mouse, who immediately latches onto the forearm area of her captor. From there, as soon as she sinks her tiny claws into the fabric, Akira makes a beeline for the Akechi-lookalike’s helmet, heart twisting in pain at the mere thought. There, she’ll finally able to confirm if it’s the same cognitive replica or some other.

The element of surprise doesn’t get her farther than the shoulder area where, for the second time this evening, a clawed hand is already swiping at her. Escaping it is easy when she has plenty room to do so and her size actually works to her advantage for once. She ducks and weaves with Joker’s dexterity, finally managing to grab onto the material of the impostor’s cape in mid-air, the momentum carrying her towards the broken side of the dark helmet.

She never had to worry about the long coattails of her thief outfit, no shadow has ever managed to even nick it, much less grab it. Never once it got in the way while sneaking around. And therefore, the sudden pain that jolts her body as her carefree swinging screeches to a halt, comes with such a surprise, she doesn’t even peep. The cape falls from her limp paws when she turns to watch as she’s lifted by the, very much forgotten, yet very much attached to her body, mousetail; pinched in between two clawed fingers. Shell-shocked, Akira just watches as she’s brought in front of the single visible through the crack in the helmet red eye, filled with so much exasperation and thinly veiled fury, a combination she knows so well but it means nothing when-

“Care to explain what do you think you’re doing, you idiot? Is wasting my time the only thing you’re good at, Joker?”

That does make Akira stop, completely, her tiny black eyes properly taking in the sight in front of her. All the details no one but her would know even with so little visible, that crooked smile she’s sure she’s the only one privy to, and the realisation that it actually is Akechi hits her. And then all hell breaks loose; she flails, she screams in her tiny mouse voice and tries her hardest to reach Akechi’s face with her front legs extended as far as they go-

But all this ruckus earns her is a click of the other’s tongue and the grip transfering from her tail to her front, pinpricks of sharp talons resting against her back in a clear warning, in case the fact Akira’s whole body is held in a tightly clenched fist. But before Akira can voice any complaints, Akechi speaks again in a hushed voice.

“Are you deaf? The shadows most definitely aren’t, do you want us to be discovered, dumbass?”

Akira whines at that, so quietly she’s sure her heart in itself is thundering at least twice as loudly.

Sighing, Goro tears her eyes away from the mouse quivering in her grip and moves towards on one of the couches in the room, pointedly avoiding even glancing in the direction of the statue that’s to blame for Akira’s transformation. She sits in one of the armchairs with her back to it, despite it only making her skin crawl more without it visible at least in the corner of her eye.

With minimal trouble, despite the hesitant rigidity of Akechi’s movements, the bird-like helmet is discarded and dropped on the ground, and the very impatient looking Akira is brought to rest against her cleavage. The thief wastes no time wiggling out of the loose grip, immediately standing on her hind legs to outstretch her front paws towards the other in a clear message, jumping in joy when Akechi moves to tuck her chin against her chest, allowing Akira to pressing her whole upper body against the brunette’s cheek. The mouse’s tiny, happy chirp brings a smile to her face, but she hides it in the gray fur.

They settle into a tense silence with Akechi idly scratching Akira’s furry back, deceptively calm while lost in thought, but making the other know that she’s far from forgiven by lightly tugging at the mouse’s ears and tail every now and then. Sped up by the encounter with the shadows, the rise and fall of Goro’s chest makes up for the unnatural stillness of the Palace, her posture tense, ready to act the second the eerie silence prevailing in maze of corridors is disturbed.

As their heartbeats sync, they savor the irony of reuniting in the heart of their greatest enemy, after they both had to fake their deaths to get here, no less.

Akira doesn’t get to enjoy it for too long, because Goro rises to her feet abruptly, strengthening her grip around Akira and in a few strides reaching the closest exit from the room. Impatient, Akira doesn’t wait to be let down and jumps as soon as she deems it safe to do so, passing the boundary in mid-air to land in a comical puff of smoke on her human feet. She immediately turns around to throw her arms around Goro, but in her haste she forgets returning to the room reverses the process, ending up a confused mouse at the feet of the other, yet again. 

With a loud squeak she’s out of the room.

“Crow!” she exclaims as soon as she can speak again, her hands itch to reach out but she knows it’s useless, so she leans her whole body forward as much as she can while still retaining human form. Akechi only languidly shifts her weight to her other feet and stays otherwise still, aside from the rise of her brows.

“Goro!”

“Stop shouting my name in here, you idiot,” she growls out before sighing as her expression softens. “What the hell are you even doing here. We had a deal.”

“We did but it didn’t stop you from going and doing your own thing!” Akira is about to lose it, she knows Goro is acting this way precisely to anger her, but can’t help herself, not after everything that has happened just hours ago.

“My own thing?” The older girl parrots mockingly. “I acted according to the situation at hand, you on the other hand, are jeopardising everything.”

“Like you dying wouldn’t?” The question barely makes it through Akira’s lips.

“I wouldn’t let myself get killed.”

“That’s really great but that’s not what it looked like back there. I was really, really fucking worried.” Goro has the gall to roll her eyes at that, as though they were discussing her choice of eyeshadow for her last interview. 

“You see me now, I’m fine, so get the hell out of here.” A dismissive wave of Akechi’s hand makes Akira’s blood boil. She knows not to let herself lose her composure too quickly though.

“I cleared out all the guards, no one saw me. We have time to talk.” She manages to keep her voice even and takes that small victory with a smile.

“Since when are you so eager to do that?” Akechi sneers. “The shadows are going to be back sooner than later, anyway.”

“That’s why you should stop arguing with me out here and come to a safe room.”

“That isn’t happening.” Clearly done, Akechi turns to walk away.

Akira takes a step towards Goro, completely forgetting about the shapeshift boundary only to end up a confused mouse at the other’s feet, yet again. When she’s human again, she makes the mistake of glancing at Akechi like she expected to see something else than that full of mockery fake smile on her face. Briefly, she feels herself deflate before her resolve steels; this time, they leave this place together. Fighting against the yet another barrier separating them, again and again Akira pushes her body to stay upright, to bend at every possible angle while balancing on the very tips of her toes with hands outstretched as far as they go, just to get that half an inch closer to Akechi.

It must make for a comical sight if it entertains Goro enough not to ditch her right there and then, how she watches determination and resignation war on Akira’s face each time she returns to her human form after an another failed attempt. That is, until her head spins so much she has to lean on one of the walls to catch a breath.

“Are you quite done?” Goro sneers out as Akira wipes off sweat from her brow. It makes her pause, but their gazes meet and the dizziness means nothing when challenge glints so brightly in Akechi’s eyes. That’s all it takes for Akira to is lose it, lunging into the room so abruptly it startles Goro, satisfaction further fuelling her as she uses the momentum to quickly climb up Goro’s leg. She gets thrown off just as quickly, swatted like a fly before she could get anywhere, Akira lands on her back outside of the room. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, far from it, and rolling backwards she jumps to her feet, running back into the room the second she regains footing.

Caught off guard by the immediate repeat of the same tactic, Goro swipes at the masked mouse sprinting in her direction, turning around and stepping away to avoid getting climbed on as it runs between her feet, and it’s exactly what Akira was waiting for. Making a sharp u-turn, she dodges the other’s attempt to stomp on her tail, darting towards the corridor and as soon as she can feel her human form returning, she turns and reaches out behind herself to, successfully, grab Goro. 

The surprise on Akechi’s face as she’s yanked backwards by her cape morphs into fury in a blink of an eye; the same is true for Akira’s expression just a second later, when Goro unexpectedly twists her body in mid-air. By sacrificing any and all chances to regain balance in favour of connecting her fist with Akira’s cheek, she delights in wiping the satisfied smirk off of the thief’s face with a clatter of her teeth. Akira narrowly avoids biting her tongue clean off, but still tastes blood on it.

Stunned by the blow, the only thing she registers in the brief moment it takes for her body to crumple to the floor, is Goro’s now livid expression, the scowl promising consequences of Akira taking it a step too far. That, and the fact this the first time ever Akechi has laid a hand on her. Lately, it wasn’t too uncommon for them to get into heated arguments and even more heated makeouts, where their hands would do more of the talking. But even if every now and then Goro would get a bit rough with her, bruises were left in the wake of the searing kisses, palms that would guide and hold Akira so she doesn’t fall apart too soon. Fists would be clenched in sweet torture, never mindless violence, even if sometimes they held a gun.

The pain of the impact is nothing compared to what she's already experienced, not even close to the worst fall she’s taken, but Akira still squeezes her eyes closed to brace for it.

They land in a heap of limbs in the narrow corridor, but lack of space doesn’t stop them from jumping to throwing punches at one another as soon as they collide with the floor. Not caring for the amount of noise they make as their grunts and shouts echo in the empty space, they tousle and tangle, finally finding the outlet for their stress and frustrations in each swing of their arms and kick of their legs. Akira’s agility doesn’t matter much in such close quarters and Akechi, being the stronger one, quickly gains upper hand, pinning the younger girl to the ground to stop her from slipping away from her grasp.

For a short while, only their gasps and grunts can be heard, as the black-leather clad thief continues to struggle in futile.

“Goro, come on.” The pathetic rasp leaves Akira’s lips, along with the fight that quickly drains from her when it becomes apparent she’s stuck; Akechi’s whole weight pressing against her back, like a cat’s paw against a captured mouse. The desperate gasp has Goro let up somewhat, the pressure against Akira's rib cage no longer crushing, causing a rattling cough to escape her lungs as soon as a gulp of air enters them. But only after the other’s weight suddenly lifts from atop of her body completely, Akira notices there are tears rolling down her cheeks. It doesn’t stop the words from tumbling from her mouth. “I really don’t want to fight you, but you left me in the fucking dark, thinking you were dead. Now, you don’t seem too keen on sharing what the hell was that all about and that’s not what we agreed on.”

Akira rolls off her stomach to sprawl on her back, releasing a deep, shuddering breath that does nothing to dissipate her anger. She keeps her eyes trained at the ceiling like it has answers she came here in search of. From the corner of her eye she can see Akechi regarding her with an incredulous stare, wordlessly folding her hands as she towers above fallen Joker. Lack of response has Akira closing her eyes in resignation and continuing.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I would have stayed away if you contacted me. I’m not that dumb.”

In the tense silence that follows her words, Akira’s tightening jaw and furrowing brows make no sound either. Anger in her guts simmers just as quietly. The pounding of her heart makes up for all of it though, with how loud the blood rushes in her ears, the desperate rattle in her ribcage rocks her back and forth from how badly it wants to escape and not have to deal with this situation. Swallowing thickly a few times to force down whatever it is that wants to surface from deep within her, she doesn’t notice the light flutter of clothing that precedes the sensation of soft, cool leather touching her cheek.

When Akira’s eyes snap open she’s greeted with the considerably more welcome sight of Akechi crouching beside her in the Crow outfit, this time. Akira doesn’t get to ponder if this is some weird way to console her, before her eyes instinctively follow the line of Akechi’s leg to where her skirt rides up rather high up her thigh and the hand on Akira’s cheek sharply slides to her hair, grabbing a fistful of them. Goro pulls at it with surprising gentleness, but forcefully enough for it to be a clear warning, commanding Akira’s attention to Akechi’s face and the sickly sweet too-stretched-out smile that occupies it. Akira mirrors with an innocent one she learned straight from Crow; the one she’d make when she was caught staring at Joker.

The hold on her scalp tightens to the point of pain.

Their alliance is still pretty shaky and uncertain, Akira has to admit, but comes with quite a few mutual benefits. Forged on Akechi’s refusal to go through with the plan that would rid her of the only kindred soul she’s found in her life, by her own hand no less, she gave Akira an illusion of choice back in the interrogation room - Joker’s life for the promise that the Phantom Thieves are to be at Akechi’s every beck and call, and access to any information Akech has as long as it keeps them out of her way. Akira accepts, much to the dismay of the rest of the team. They have to accept the detective on their case as their new tactician, with Joker acting as a link between them. The leader has to make compromises to keep their team together after all, and it doesn’t really feel like that bad of a deal; she can keep an eye on Akechi as much as she keeps it on her, making sure they both come out of this mess alive and their revenge comes to fruition.

Akira even gets to have some input on the course of action so that they have some free time to go on dates. Best of both worlds, really; a blood oath, a true bond and a common enemy have Akira’s heart soar, light and hopeful despite the dire situation.

It was nice to see Goro unwind and let herself go even the tiniest bit, allow for both of their masks to slip, their burdens to ease with the introduction of the failsafe in form of the Phantom Thieves, seeing Shido wasn’t keen on keeping Akechi around long enough to give her a chance for her original plan to succeed. In case she didn’t survive to see it through herself, something that almost came true just yesterday, Akira was there to make sure her efforts didn’t go to waste. And maybe, just maybe allow her to believe that she deserved something good in her life, with the younger girl dropping on her lap and refusing to leave, even if Akechi was unable to understand what was making her stay.

Goro decided to be cautiously grateful for it; Akira is fickle and indulging her for now has more benefits than detriments, but for how long can they bear one another? Who knows, she'll cross that bridge when the time for that comes and no sooner, since so far the lovestruck fool that Akira is, has done an amazing job at keeping her sane when the plan is so close to fruition. At keeping her sane with the knowledge that her interest isn't one-sided.

But now, Akira is being a brat, teetering on the line of making Akechi regret coming clean with her. So she addresses her, the unruly, petulant child she is, in a stern tone.

“Get up, you big baby.” It gets Akira’s attention surprisingly quickly, her head swiftly rising from the floor to look at Akechi, but the playful glint in her gray eyes has Goro regret saying anything before she even hears the response.

“You know what, I can be your baby if you carry me around in your arms. You seemed to like that when I was a mouse.” The roll of Crow’s eyes saves her from seeing the self-satisfied smirk stretching on Joker’s face. There are a lot of things she wants to say to Akira and her annoyance only grows since she very, very well knows that the other girl will use her her words against her. So instead, Akechi decides to end it right there and then.

“I’m leaving.” She says rising to her feet, turning on heels to walk back into the open area they came from, only for something to stop her in her tracks.

“No!” Akira’s voice comes from below her. Apparently, in her lack of shame and dignity, she decided to latch onto Goro’s leg, wrapping her arms around the brunette’s shin tightly. Crow can barely believe her eyes.

“Let. Go.” She hisses out from behind her clenched teeth.

“No, not unless you come back with me.” Akira tightens her arms around Akechi even further. She won’t let go, not his time.

But there’s a click of a tongue before the arms that previously have been pushing her away, wind around her middle and whole world spins as she’s unceremoniously, effortlessly, lifted into a bridal carry. Frantically throwing her arms around Goro’s neck not to lose balance, Akira yelps, startled by being swung around like she weighs nothing. She doesn’t dare to move a muscle even when everything stills, eyes tightly closed and mouth in a thin line, clinging to the other like her life depended on it. Like she hoped Akechi would depend on her.

“Not a single word,” is growled straight into her ear like she could do anything but gape after her eyes snap open as Akechi slams her back into the doors right behind them, swiftly making her way inside the room when they noisily swing open. The door barely manage to close again before it’s Akira back slamming against the bed in the corner, after Akechi drops her to climb on it herself, trapping the younger girl below her as her outfit changes back to the dark, stipped one.

Pinned by both the stern gaze and Akechi’s limbs on each side of her body, Akira squirms and attempts to make seem like she’s looking for an escape route, hoping the movement hides the fact her eyes are shamelessly roving up and down Goro’s form. She haven’t had the chance to get to know this outfit as well as she does the other one, after all. Her endeavour is cut short though, her eyes torn away from the belts adorning Goro’s thighs when her chin is grabbed, forcing her to meet Akechi’s darkened with annoyance gaze, lit up only by that pay attention or else gleam in them. Akira sighs.

“You’re all work and no play, as usual.”

“And your head is in the clouds, as usual.”

“Well, the clouds above my head seem especially dark and heavy today-” is all Akira manages to say, stealing a single glance towards Goro’s chest area before the hold on her chin becomes just shy of bruising. But even when pain doesn’t deter Akira from staring, Akechi resorts to harshly jerking her head back with a loud huff. ”Ah, was ‘shapely’ a better word to use?”

There’s a slight flush dusting Goro’s cheeks, before all Akira can see is the wall behind the bed.

“Seriously though, are you bigger in this outfit? It’s pretty tight and stuff, but, yeah.” She continues and vaguely points upwards, anything to dispel the tense atmosphere. She knows full well she’s not off the hook yet, if she’ll ever be for pulling a stunt like that, and the hint of nervousness in her voice betrays she still feels very much like the cornered mouse she was not too long ago. But Joker is not the one to let something that piqued her interest go, just because she got threatened once. Or twice. Even when Akira can actively feel her Metaverse persona slipping through her fingers like fine silk, not an unusual occurrence in Crow’s presence, especially as of late, leaving her a bumbling mess of a teenager behind the mask. But then something crosses her mind and she opens her mouth without thinking; she can’t dig her grave any deeper, anyway. “Do you even have a bra under it?”

Goro blinks twice before answering, seemingly completely unruffled by the question. “As through you yourself are wearing one.” It prompts Akira’s hands to fly to her own chest.

“I am, though?” Joker is gone, so gone.

“You might be surprised.” Is murmured straight into Akira’s ear after Goro moves her hand from Akira’s chin to the side of her head, lowering herself to nose at the younger girl’s ear as Akita frantically palms around her cleavage, indeed feeling nothing in between the material of her vest and her skin. Her mind and hands come to screeching halt upon the realisation.

“See?” Akechi drawls playfully, before gasping as Akira’s hands find themselves pressed right against her own breasts, lightly groping they wander up and down.

“Is this some twisted metaphor for freedom?” Akira’s voice is back to it’s more collected tone, but her unblinking gaze is wild and hungry for more of Goro’s even tiniest reactions.

“Quite possibly,” Akechi grits out, suppressing a shudder. “It’s quite convenient though, don't you think?”

Akira uses that moment to bring Goro down to lie flush against her, sliding her hands down to rest on Akechi’s back. The older girl allows for that, but doesn’t return the hug. Akira’s lips purse in displeasure not only at that, but also at the discovery she makes with her palms.

“Relax a bit, will you, you are so tense.”

“I will, when you and your friends stop clowning around, leaving me to do all the work.” Akechi replies angrily, wincing when a finger jabs into the meat of her shoulder blade.

“Come on now, if anything, I’m here to keep you from overworking yourself and you know that.”

“Really now, all you’ve been doing so far is making me wait.”

Before Akira can disagree, her lips are covered with Goro’s and a warm, urgent tongue is immediately slipping past them. Oh, it’s on.

The kiss is fervid, zero to one hundred in half a second, nipping and tugging at each other’s lips at every opportunity. They fight tooth and nail, grunting and panting from the effort, until Akira is first to break out to catch a breath, with Goro nothing short of growling when it finally gives her what she wanted. Tangling one of her hands in Akira’s hair, she takes full advantage of it by tilting the other girl’s head back yet again, this time to nuzzle at her neck in order to hide her own labored breathing, before capturing Akira’s lips again. It starts rough, but then mellows out just as suddenly as it has escalated, in perfect sync turning to slow, open-mouthed caress, tongues almost lazily sliding against one another.

As through a switch was flipped, their hands begin roaming each other’s bodies. Especially Akira’s, whose curiosity is still far from satiated. That, and she needs to make sure, needs to lay all her fears to rest. So she asks, “Let me see?”, speaking so quickly she’s almost stumbling over the words, before she can talk herself out of it.

“Don’t you have that weird ability of yours?” Goro grumbles against her neck, where she moved on to after releasing Akira’s lips to let her speak.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Akira rolls her eyes. “You know I check our inventory very thoroughly before each mission and your assets are of...utmost importance.” She punctuates that by running her hands up Akechi’s sides, twisting her hands in the material, managing to get her grip on Joker again in the very same way. The action prompts the other to look up from turning patches of skin below Akira’s jaw a nice, deep red. Same red that glints in Akira’s eyes when their gazes meet and a grin blooms on her lips, whereas Goro’s vanishes at the sight.

Flipping them around with ease makes Akira wonder why she haven’t done that faster, if just to appreciate Goro’s form from a better perspective. It has the added perk of denying Goro the chance to comment on her corny lines, the older girl now more busy with trying not to shrink Joker’s unabashed stare as it rows appreciatively all across Akechi’s upper half as soon as she made herself comfortable after straddling Crow. Her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but her resolve not to be bested so easily burns even brighter.

Akira’s attention is quickly focused on a single point, when Goro takes her hands into her own and brings them to her collarbone, where their fingers brush against a small, hard nub that Akechi reveals to be a button by unclasping it to reveal the barest hint of her cleavage as the material parts.

Akira only stares dumbfoundead, mesmerized by the fluid movement of Akechi’s fingers, so deft despite the thick armor covering them. Only when Goro lets go of her hands to slide them slowly, teasingly, up Akira’s arms and then down her sides to finally settle on her hips, the spell breaks like a soap bubble when it dawns on the younger girl what is being allowed her. Expected of her, even. The rise of a brow on Akechi’s face urges her to do so, that’s for sure.

So she pops another button.

And then one more, for a good measure, all the while staring Goro dead in the eyes.

It’s enough to make the neckline of the dark outfit go scandalously low, well below Akechi’s bust, beckoning Akira with the promise of soft, sensitive skin, right there in front of her and ready to be lavished with attention. It takes all the self-restraint she has not to follow the gentle curves of Goro’s breasts with her eyes, with her hands, with her tongue, as she’s dying to do so, like she was waiting for it since the day she was born, but not yet, not yet. There still is so much to do before she can enjoy the full course. The payoff will be so better much better, for the both of them, if she’s patient for just a bit longer. Patience, not hesitance, she keeps telling herself is what she’s acting upon, as she watches Goro observe her every move with bated breath herself; as if delving into this kind of unknown was somehow more unnerving than anything else she’s ever done in her life before.

So when Akira briefly glances down the farthest she allows herself, for now - to Goro’s lips as she bites on them lightly, nervously; she decides to, for now, dive into better known waters by bringing their mouths together in an eagerly reciprocated kiss.

Show me, Akira asks by drawing back the tiniest bit after a short while, and Akechi does, breaking the kiss to tilt her head back to push the other girl’s face into her neck.

This is the most cooperative Goro has ever been and Akira’s mind scrambles at the thought of maybe, possibly, very soon even, being allowed to have her hands all over the older girl without holding back. And right here, on the ship, of all the places. Maybe it’s for the best, as Akira’s well aware of and infinitely thankful for Arsene’s calming influence; slowing her movements, telling her where to put more pressure, to focus on ques Goro is giving her. She doesn’t even want to think the mess she’s be without him.

By the time she lavishes Crow’s bare neck with sufficient attention, hints of bruises she herself is sporting already blooming across Akechi’s skin, Akira’s hands steady and her head is free from the nervous buzz that was ever present ever since Goro released her from underneath her, overwhelming sense of relief and belonging replacing it instead.

With clear goal in mind Akira ventures lower, deeper, lets the calm wash over her and the water to fill her ears, pressing her lips against the jut of Goro’s collarbone as if was her only source of oxygen. Teeth lightly sink into the skin, barely testing the waters, but almost immediately Akira feels hands sneaking into her hair, appreciatively tugging and scratching at her scalp , keeping her in place. Breathy sighs that tickle the tip of one of her ears like small fish only encourage her further. A set of particularly deep marks, that Akira hopes will remain visible outside of the Metaverse, receives a loving apology from her tongue even if Akira knows the few whimpers that escape Goro are of the pleasant kind. Still, Akira wonders when the tiny bites become not enough to silence her hunger. But if there’s one thing she’s sure of, it’s that Joker will keep her steady, even if she goes so deep she won’t be able to see the surface anymore.

For now, Akira settles on slowly working her way down the flat plane of skin stretching right above Goro’s sternum, feeling it thrum excitedly with the other’s heartbeat. She can’t help but smirk when she feels it spiking even further as she plants a lingering kiss right in between her breasts. Satisfied for now, Akira looks up with hooded eyes to inspect her work, only be taken aback by the rapt attention Akechi is regarding her with when their gazes meet. The only indication any of this is affecting Goro is the faint blush dusting her cheeks and the lip being worried in between her teeth, remaining otherwise perfectly unruffled. Akira can’t help but feel like she isn’t the one in charge. Goro seems to agree on that, judging from how archs both her brow and spine, urging, challenging Akira to continue with an impatient hum, but also offering more of herself with honesty reserved for Akira, and Akira only. 

Fondness along with incredulity swell the younger girl’s heart as she huffs and shakes her head. So she breaks away and rises to sit up, if just to break the surface and catch a breath, if just not get swept by the current so soon. To feast on the sight before her for as long as she can. 

Goro’s fingers slip from her hair in the process, weaving themselves on top of her chest instead, coyly framing her breasts with her arms as she pretends she’s absolutely not blatantly pressing them together to make their shape more pronounced and making it absolutely clear they’re the only reason the material of her top hasn’t fallen away completely yet. And the way she looks at Akira from below her? God, is makes something stir within Joker, something she was never aware she lacked, but now knows she won’t be able to live without.

Akira sharply sucks in a breath, but it does nothing to smother the heat overtaking her insides and rather fans the flames to burn brighter. It almost consumes her whole when Goro peers at her from underneath her eyelashes with so much faux innocence Akira has to consciously keep herself from snorting, but when she glances down to where Akira is comfortably seated on her and looks back up there’s a clear message in them.

No backing out past this point.

To show her commitment, Akira shrugs off her heavy coat but keeps the gloves on, all encouraged by Goro’s blown eyes with the red of her irises, despite being barely visible, somehow still more intense than the blush on her cheeks. Curious if she can change that, Akira brings her hands to cup Goro’s cheeks, smiling at how warm they are, before claiming her lips in a brief but urgent kiss, fully intending to paint Akechi’s face that lovely shade of red as soon as possible. A breathy laugh fans across her face when she breaks off to pepper Goro’s whole face with tiny kisses, a full-body shiver shared between them when Akira goes nose and blow air at one of Goro’s earlobes, breathy sighs being caught by Akira’s own .

Only when it’s thoroughly nipped at to match the flush already covering the rest of Goro’s face, Akira lets the hands that have sneaked into her hair guide her back to the other’s lips. She doesn’t linger there for too long though, more than satisfied with how bruised they are, but unable to hold herself back from chuckling at Goro’s attempt to chase her mouth. The exasperation at being denied brightens the sparks in her eyes, especially when Akira brings their faces so close their noses almost touch, blocking Goro’s vision completely, and removes her hands from Akechi’s cheeks to put them on the bed on the sides of her head to reposition herself slightly.

Remaining hunched over he girl below her but with her hands free, Akira maintains the front-row seat to catch even the subtlest of shifts in Goro’s expression. She grins wickedly when Akechi’s brows jump in alarm as she attempts to twist away to see what the younger girl is planning when the red-leather clad palms leave her sight, but it’s stopped by Akira’s whisper of ‘eyes on me, Goro’. The second she glances up she knows, and the remains of aggravation in her expression are chased away by Akira’s hands sliding down her front to cup her breasts instead, making way to a surprised one.

Akira doesn’t dare to blink, ready to drink in all of Goro’s reactions.

Despite making no direct contact with skin, hands running along the dark stripes, Akira marvels at the contrast of her gloves against the material each time she allows herself a glance down. The warmth and the sensations are already near overwhelming with two layers separating them, and a bead of sweat slides down her brow at the thought of shedding them. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Akira can’t help but chuckle, low and quiet, mostly to herself. “Don’t deny it, I can see you are as much as I am.”

Goro seems to agree, no matter how much she tries to hide it, judging from her tightly closed eyes and hands twitching as they clutch at the sheets. Arching of her spine to chase Akira’s touch, subtle but definitely there, and sharp intakes of breath betray her further; each pinch and grope of Akira’s hands followed by too honest of a reaction to be fake. 

Another breathy laugh has Goro grabbing at Akira’s shoulders to pull her into a kiss, a trap for the whines and mewls that just won’t stop escaping her, drowning them in the saliva that drips down her chin as their tongues slide against one another. When they part, there’s a desperate glint swimming in her eyes; starved for contact to ground herself in those uncharted waters. For a brief moment, their damp breaths mingle together.

“Cat got your tongue, honey? If not, we can arrange for that.” Steadiness of Akira’s voice is about as deceptive as that of an eye of the storm.

“Shut up and do your job.” Akechi doesn’t seem to mind, if the canine worrying her lip in anticipation is anything to go by.

“You got it.” And so, Joker swoops back in.

There isn’t a moment wasted between Goro gasping out ‘more’ and Akira moving to comply; hands sneak under the dark material without a second thought, flat and still against the bottom of Akechi’s ribcage as tremors dance below the gloved fingers. All too soon, Akira withdraws from the kiss to watch Goro’s face; brows furrowing and lashes fluttering, ruby eyes finally peeking out from behind tightly closed eyelids, displeased by the tempo slowing down yet again. It’s exactly what Akira was looking for, downright gleeful as her palms swiftly slide down Akechi’s sides, reveling in her eyes snapping open, just like the few remaining buttons of her top do when the strain on them becomes too much, popping in rapid succession. Akira’s hair stand on end when she hears Crow’s breath catch.

If she wasn’t before, now she’s sure the blush on her cheeks rivals the one on Goro’s; their burn so intense Akechi’s breath fanning across them feels chilly in comparison, though it would seem their heat is easily matched by that ruby gaze.

A teasing remark along with smirk dies on Joker’s lips when they are claimed by a hasty yet thorough kiss, not unlike the last stretch of a Palace infiltration can be, and just as nerve-wracking. The goal is so close, yet so far; they trade soft noises and breathy growls like blows, until Goro in her cunning ingenuity, grabs Akira’s hands not to guide them, but apparently to tear the gloves off of them, unmask them. She succeeds, but only when her own clawed gauntlets vanish like they were never there in the first place; dainty fingers sneaking themselves under the soft leather with grace that puts Joker to shame.

They guide the warm and honest palms back where the skin is soft and sensitive, itching to be touched, itching to be explored, and the thief feels right in her element, taking the treasures she fought for so long, exposed and waiting for her to lay her hands on them.

She leans back slightly, to take in the view in front of her, of how wild, uninhibited, beautiful everything about Akechi is, always was, but now it’s just for her, just for her, and the only thing she hopes for is the world doesn’t come crumbling. Something must have shown on her face because suddenly there’s a hand cupping her cheek, the other coming to rest over one of Akira’s; the one that stilled just above Goro’s heart.

“What’s wrong, Akira? I’m right here.” Akechi’s quiet, so delightfully breathy, voice catches her attention better than the gleam of hidden valuables strewn all across palace floors. Their sight would never squeeze Akira’s heart in such gut wrenching way, though.

But instead of answering Akira allows herself to follow the movement of Akechi’s hands, how deceptively coy they are in sliding down her front to open her top further, baring herself fully and almost shamelessly, if not for the quick dart of her gaze to the side when her own hands come to rest, intertwined, below her breasts. With that she stills, save for her eyes that can’t seem to can’t come to agreement if they want to look away, or stay trained on Akira’s face in search for any signs of rejection, displeasure.

But there’s also that challenging glint in them, and that’s what Akira focuses on, as it’s daring her to do something about it, to rile her up with blatant smugness and bring out Joker to have her way with her.

To punish her, to let Akechi apologize in the only way she knows how. A peek behind the mask, on her own terms, but still.

Unaware of Akira’s internal turmoil, Goro continues to bat her eyelashes, arching her spine slightly to expose her neck further, anything to have the girl above her shower her with attention again, before the heady rush of adrenaline wears off to leave them cold and awkward again. Her face lights up when Akira begins to lower herself back, the act breaking in favour of a genuinely surprised when a newly familiar weight settles in between her breasts.

With a cheek pressed against Akechi’s sternum, Akira tries not to shiver in anticipation, not for what will but for what can happen, not too visibly at least, so she nuzzles her nose against the soft skin and wills her mind to stop trying to race her heart at who’ll the first to make her faint.

“You really are here, aren’t you?”

The thing about talking to Goro, especially about feelings, is it’s like navigating a minefield. You can never be sure of any step you take and the further you get the less you actually learn. Pressure has to be applied with varied intensity at different points in time, with no rhyme or reason, and tiniest misstep ends the game. So far, the thrill alone was worth it, so far, Joker never backed out and always got what she wanted. More or less.

So far, Akechi was content with gleefully pointing out Akira was about to step on a mine before it could blow up in her face.

A shove to Akira’s shoulders tears her away from that train of thought, reminding her that being with Akechi is being in the present, near future at best. Urgent hands keep forcing her backwards until she’s sat up, slightly leaning back with the added weight of Goro’s arms now draped over her shoulders. Goro, who acts way too casually and looks way too pleased with herself for somebody, whose bodysuit completely slips off their shoulders to pool at their elbows and waist, leaving their top, well, now completely bare and pressed against Akira’s front.

A dead-on bless spell never felt this good, it occurs to Akira, even with the stun effect it seems to have retained sending shivers down her spine, both knocking her off-balance and gluing her to the spot. Akechi seems to take it as hesitance and meets it with a raise of her brow, but when that yields no results, she quickly falters.

“Why did you stop? I thought you want it? Want…me?”

And then it hits Akira, the melancholy. The name of the dull pain that has found its home in Akira’s heart, now spreading throughout her whole body, weighing it down with the knowledge that Goro would readily surrender her body before her heart and mind, is readily surrendering her body, more than likely as an apology, for whatever she deems appropriate to apologize for. But it all flees Akira’s mind when she feels the other girl’s hands slide from her shoulders to curl in the material of Joker’s vest and moves to quickly grasp them with her own, along with steady eye-contact.

“I do. I do, but more than than I want us safe and happy once we’re done with everything.” She leans in rest some if her own weight on Akechi, bringing their faces even closer. “Don’t get me wrong, having you in your father’s palace would be the greatest power move of all time but at the same time...I’d prefer it to be not a statement to him but to both of us. That, and ever since the casino, I miss having you watch my back in the metaverse.” With her voice getting progressively huskier, returning to its native to metaverse timbre, so does Goro’s short temper, flush covering her cheeks coming from both arousal and annoyance.

“I don’t, coddling the lot of you was beyond exhausting.” She spats in response and closes her eyes, turning her head to the side.

“Oh come on,” Akira chides and taps the tip of Goro’s nose, “you were constantly by my side anyway. And honestly, I hope you’re ready for me being glued to your side, now that you’re actually on my side.”

“Your side.” The crimson eyes snap open meet the gray ones, a spark of challenge clear in them.

“...Our side? Not non-Phantom Thieves’ side? The cooler side-!”

Akira is dragged away from her ramblings by a hand grabbing her chin and pulling it towards Akechi for her lips to be captured, leaning so eagerly into the kiss they both fall back down on the bed in a heap of limbs and muted gasps, never breaking away.

They don’t venture any further than a few enthusiastic gropes and teeth against tender spots, before Akira yet again finds herself on her side, facing Goro, with her head tucked below the other girl’s chin, listening with her eyes closed to the thrum of the heart that holds her own captive. But soon enough, they catch their breaths enough to speak again.

“Did you know the cognition of you would appear?” Akira murmurs tentatively, half-hoping Goro won’t hear her at all. It’s dashed when almost immediately she can feel Akechi’s mouth fall open, just barely, with no sounds escaping it at first. 

“I...had a strong suspicion it would appear there after you’d arrive.” Goro speaks carefully after a moment of consideration.

It’s met with Akira’s immediate, deadpan but somehow not accusative reply. “So you used us as a bait.”

“I wanted information. I needed to confirm something.”

“And maybe possibly get yourself killed.” At that Goro actually props herself up on her elbows, forcing Akira to rise as well to meet her fierce gaze head-on.

“Need I to remind you those idiot children you call your friends were ready to sacrifice you for a plan that had an abysmal chance of succeeding? Pardon my lack of trust in their, and by proxy yours, critical thinking abilities. Even if I somehow didn’t notice the shift into the metaverse there are hundreds of things that could have gone way worse.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you still agreed.”

“Yeah, we’re just dumb kids, just like you said.” she can see Akira’s gaze becoming more and more unfocused, tone of her voice growing more distant and hoarse with each spoken word.

“Did it not occur you could have died? How badly the odds were stacked against you?”

“I-”

“You could do literally nothing to defend yourself have things gone even slightly differently and none of the variables were under your control in addition to-”

“I know! Akechi, believe me, I know!” Akira exclaims as she curls into the other’s chest, trembling. “I was terrified of dying. But I couldn’t tell them that, just like I couldn’t tell you to stop working for Shido and stay with us. So I went with our plan, since at the time it seemed to have a bigger chance of me surviving that than confronting you.” Goro looks away from her at that. “So can you please stop giving me shit for coming to check up on you? This plan was supposed to be foolproof and yet you almost ended up killed. The person who came up with it! And I couldn’t be the variable to ensure your survival because you didn’t allow me that!”

It hurt, the continued lack of trust. 

“It doesn’t matter as long as the plan succeeds. I’m also not good at improvisation, obviously that’s your forte and since I can’t predict what are you going to do, I have to prevent it.”

“So you deviating from the plan is okay because it won’t sabotage it. Meanwhile I have to stick to it no matter what.”

Goro just nods, looking away, making it obvious that in their own lack of self-preservation, they’ll do everything not to let the other come to harm and it’s not changing anytime soon, either.

What haven’t changed either, is the effect hands in her hair have on Akira, and as soon familiar ones tangle with her dark locks, all her thoughts come a screeching halt and fade into a pleasant buzz, brought about the gentle massage.

There’s a low groan reaching her ears, has been ever since he started scratching Akira’s scalp. Goro pauses.

“Are you...purring?”

Now it’s Akira’s turn to stop. She can see the other blink a couple of times as she considers what to say. She asks tentatively, “Do you want me to?”

Akechi’s mouth falls open but the disagreement she was about to voice dies on her lips. Does she?

The way Akira curls even further into her as she resumes the massage by rubbing behind Akira’s ears tell her she does, very much so, and brings the other to rest her head below her chin. The smile she catches a glimpse of stretches itself to her own lips.

“Things can never be easy with you, can’t they, Akira.”

“I think you meant to say that about yourself, I am the most agreeable person on earth--”

Anything else she was supposed to say gets drowned out by the rustle of sheets and clothing as Akira’s head gets shoved into Goro’s cleavage with a startled yelp, one that Akechi mirrors just a second later when teeth sink into her skin and all hell breaks loose, again. In all honesty, in a very mild, contained manner, compared to everything that’s happened less than a day ago, yet feels like a lifetime ago. And probably, for the best.


End file.
